


Laundry Day

by melagan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 13:43:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12632226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melagan/pseuds/melagan
Summary: The Ancient laundromat makes everyone uncomfortable.  Including John and Rodney.





	Laundry Day

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Day-in-the-life challenge at Story Works. Beta by Mischief5.

He tried not to think too much about his dirty clothes, yet they still piled up. Rodney carefully sniffed the underarm of a three-day-old shirt. It didn't make his eyes water so there was a possibility that he could ignore doing his laundry for one more day. 

Socks. Crap. He forgot about the socks. He bent down on his hands and knees and rooted under his bed hunting for his last pair. His hand made contact with the stiff, crumpled mess of one crusty sock just as Sheppard poked his head in the door and asked, "Are you mining for laundry again, McKay?" 

"Yes." Rodney pulled out the sock and held it up waving it like a flag—a sticky, stiff, rolled-in-a-ball flag. 

John winced. "Well, that's one way to make the natives surrender."

"Very funny." Dropping the sock, Rodney sat on the floor and sighed. "I'm a genius. I've saved our lives countless times. Is it really too much to ask for a little maid service?"

"Elizabeth nixed the idea again, didn't she? She's never going to say yes, McKay." John toed the edge of Rodney's pile of dirty laundry with his boot. "There's not enough hazard pay for this."

Rodney stood up and glared, receiving a patented Sheppard smirk for his trouble. His shoulders slumped. "Fine. I'll take precious time out of my day, time that could be spent saving the city from sinking not to mention saving our collective asses, again, and do laundry."

"We're not in any danger of sinking that I know of, so this seems like the perfect time." John rocked up on his heels. "C'mon, we'll stop by my quarters and I'll grab my stuff too." He nodded toward the bed. "Don't forget the sheets."

"The sheets?" 

"Yeah, they probably need it."

"Hrump." Rodney began stripping the bed, tossing the sheets on the floor, and dumped the rest of his dirty clothes into the middle of it.

As he gathered up the ends of his improvised laundry sack, he scowled. "I don't know what you imagine I'm doing to dirty my sheets." 

He froze. Fist tightening on his makeshift sack, flashes of exactly how he'd dirtied his sheets, and how often, flashed through his mind.

Sputtering, he said, "Forget I said that. Besides, I'm sure yours are in worse condition—not that—in any way—have I imagined you in bed getting your sheets dirty." 

"I don't know whether to be relieved or offended by that, McKay." Clearing his throat, John clapped his hands together. "My stuff's all ready to go. It's in an actual basket and everything. It'll just take a minute to stop by my quarters and pick it up."

"Ha." Rodney hitched his self-made laundry sack over his shoulder and snorted. "You're not fooling me, Sheppard. You couldn't get Ford to do your laundry for you. I know you hate those damn machines as much as I do. You're just being helpful because you don't want to go down to the Ancient laundry by yourself." 

"I am not!" John shuddered. "Okay, yes. You caught me. But it's hardly my fault the Ancient laundromat is freaking creepy. What the hell is that stuff their washers are loaded with? It reminds me of purple quicksand. Purple. What the hell is up with that?"

Rodney nodded in agreement. "Don't forget the noise. They all make this weird slithering sound before you can even get the lid open. I always feel like I could lose my hand in there when I'm stuffing my laundry in."

*

He waited outside the door while Sheppard grabbed his laundry. He wasn't going to think about Sheppard's dirty sheets, or how they got that way. Or how often. He certainly didn't need to go inside the room and see Sheppard's bed with its blankets all rumpled and inviting.

That way lie madness. Madness coupled with the probability that he'd end up needing to wash his own sheets more often. Damn Sheppard for making him think about that in the first place with his lanky, slim hips and sex-on-a-stick walk. Bastard. 

Stupid laundry day. He'd been doing fine not thinking about it. About Sheppard, buck naked with his bedding rucked down by his ankles, his head thrown back, gasping out Rodney's name. 

"Rodney, I'm ready." 

"God, me too." 

John shot Rodney a puzzled look and shook his head. "Okay, then. Apparently, I'm missing out on some exciting washday drama. You want to clue me in?"

"No. I really, really don't," Rodney snapped back, feeling heat begin to creep up the back of his neck. 

Sheppard let the subject drop. He darted a few thoughtful, sidelong glances Rodney's way but kept his peace.

When they arrived at the Ancient laundry, Rodney barreled in ahead while John hovered in the doorway. 

"Oh, for—nothing in here is going to snap at you." 

"Yeah. Well, there's always a first time." John sauntered in and set his basket down by the nearest machine. 

Large tubs circled the room in a honeycomb formation leaving the center of the room wide open. Someone had filled the space with tables and chairs. It seemed like a wasted effort because, as far as Rodney knew, no one ever hung around long enough to use them. 

Instead of water, the machines used a kind of purple granule, fine as silt. He suspected some property of electrostatic charge did the job of cleaning but neither he nor Radek had had the time yet to investigate. Meanwhile, they used the machines because they worked. They were energy efficient, didn't need detergent, and the clothes came out clean and dry. 

He watched as John shoved the last of his clothes in like a man that wished he'd had a long stick to do it with. Finished, he stepped back, edging closer to the door. "I thought you'd have yours in by now, McKay."

"Working on it." He felt oddly guilty for watching John's domestic ordeal with the machines. It was only laundry, after all. There was absolutely no reason it should feel like he'd trespassed on something intimate.

Shrugging it off, Rodney opened the washer nearest to him and began shoving his dirty clothes in. One balled up sock fell from his bundle and rolled a few feet away.

"Don't look at me," John said. 

"But it's closer to you. Couldn't you just…"

"I'm not picking that up without a hazmat suit."

"Very funny." With an unsubtle groan, he dropped the rest of his stuff into the large, white machine before bending over to grab his wayward sock. Behind him, the air went still, almost as if John had stopped breathing. 

"Sheppard?"

"It's fine. I'm…fine," John rasped. "Just get your damn laundry into the machine so we can get out of here."

"Done. You know, this isn't so bad when I don't have to come in here by myself," Rodney confessed.

John ran his finger around the collar of his shirt as if to loosen it. "It is more interesting that way."

"So, it's agreed? We'll do laundry day together from now on?"

"Sure, buddy. At least until we can figure out what it takes to bribe Jinto to do it for us."

John's smile warmed Rodney down to his toes. Unbidden, a smile spread across his own face. For a moment, dealing with the scary laundry room seemed almost worth it. Just as long as he didn't think about dirty sheets. Fuck. 

"Something on your mind?" John asked. He bumped his elbow against his Rodney's and husked in his ear. "I'll tell you how my sheets got dirty if you tell me yours."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." 

"No?"

"Although, I suppose if we had to come here more often—due to—because of—ah, well, I imagine we'd get used to using the Ancient laundromat?" Rodney suggested, hopefully.

"Hm, when you put it that way, it sounds almost productive. Next Sunday, then?" John suggested.

Rodney thought about John, naked in his bed, all long lean lines and golden skin, purposefully dirtying the bedding. "Maybe we should do it sooner than that? I don't think my sheets can wait that long."

~*~


End file.
